


oasis

by luckee



Series: desert fruit [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha Anakin Skywalker, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Bottom Obi-Wan Kenobi, Feral Anakin Skywalker, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Male Lactation, Mating Bites, Mpreg, Omega Obi-Wan Kenobi, Pregnant Sex, Protectiveness, Riding, Scent Marking, Top Anakin Skywalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:48:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25634587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckee/pseuds/luckee
Summary: Obi-Wan and Anakin find sanctuary.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Series: desert fruit [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1823194
Comments: 36
Kudos: 587





	oasis

**Author's Note:**

> desert fruit was conceived as a two-part story, which has already been told. It’s absolutely up to you if you want to believe this is how the story continues or if it’s simply Obi-Wan’s—or Anakin’s—grief-addled mind conjuring up a fantasy. (I choose to believe this is how the story continues.)

Obi-Wan had spent his entire life under the oath of the Jedi Order. Committed to its Code, and later to the preservation of the Republic, through any means necessary. At times he might have been blind in his unwavering loyalty. He’d believed it was an undeniable truth that he’d been following the ordained path of the light side—that he was a force for good.

His eyes had been opened to the fallacies of the Order and the Republic almost too late to do anything about it. 

Almost.

If not for Cody, ever-protective, ever-vigilant, he would not have connected the Chancellor’s unnerving interest in his child with his child disappearing from his bassinet in the halls of healing. He would not have understood the sickening potential for rapid aging, the indentured servitude planned for a being so overflowing with power and strength in the Force. He only learned later to what extent Palpatine had already orchestrated such servitude on a mass scale—to what extent he puppeteered it all.

If not for Cody and his men, he would not have survived the call off-world in the early days of postpartum that sent him directly into an ambush by Dooku and his army. Simply a bullet point in the Chancellor’s plan, removing him from the picture and leaving no one devoted enough to finding the missing newborn as to be successful in their search. 

And if not for Mace, he would have likely been lost to the dark side, after finding the Chancellor in his chambers and striking him through the heart with a blind fury that had even terrified him with its intensity.

Rex had been the one to stumble across the Chancellor’s plan for genocide of the Jedi, implants that had remained inactive for years while the Chancellor bided his time waiting for the right apprentice. 

Many of the clones, finally free from the implants and the war, had chosen to remain in service to the Republic. They had no families to return to, only each other and the Jedi they had fought beside. The war was all they knew.

Much of his peacekeeping work with the Order, if not all of it, revolved around cleaning up the messes that he and the rest of the GAR had created during the war. Much of his former battalion had stayed by his side, and in some ways, his work now didn’t feel that much different from the better days of the war.

The meaningless war. A proxy war between the Republic and Separatists, who were ultimately one and the same, all carefully masterminded by the Sith. By a man he had never trusted but for whom he had been an unwitting enforcer of chaos and destruction for six long, bloody years.

Not a day went by that he didn’t think about how much of his life he’d dedicated to what amounted to absolutely nothing. The physical scars and bone-deep aches, the premature graying in his hair and beard, the lines on his face, they were all a permanent reminder of the toll the war had taken on him. 

Far worse were the invisible scars. So many lives lost that haunted him in the night. They haunted him even in the daylight, when he would walk through the town market and think he’d seen the face of a fallen trooper. 

Of course, the Separatists were still a threat to the Republic’s relative peace, but the movement had vastly crumbled along with its leadership, fractured and splintered off, losing control of most of its conquered planets. 

He knew many of his adversaries were still alive. Those who wanted him dead, who had a personal vendetta against him for whatever myriad of ways he’d wronged them during the war. Every time he returned home he was plagued with the fear that someone could have followed him back to his family and the quiet home they’d made. 

For now, they were safe.

It was hilarious, in hindsight, that when Obi-Wan had finally decided to walk away from the Order, the Council had admitted that they needed him to stay, no matter his transgressions against the Code. 

Including his decision to leave Coruscant.

Anakin ultimately had more pain than comfort associated with Tatooine. He had no qualms with leaving the desolate planet once they’d found a safe place for him to heal, away from the dense metropolis that was the Republic capital. 

The day they arrived on Sorgan, Obi-Wan saw a type of peace and clarity in Anakin’s eyes that he had never seen during his visits to Tatooine. 

In the darkest days of the war, the planet’s largest towns and settlements had been ravished by raiders, reducing them to small, loosely connected villages. Many of the survivors had emigrated off-planet after the war had ended, leaving it a rather sparsely populated world in the middle of the Core.

It was exactly what they needed.

They arrived on Sorgan with a small crew—members of his battalion who had wanted to help their general disappear as much as he could from malevolent eyes. They’d used a pair of abandoned homes as their foundation, set into the forested landscape near a spring that provided fresh groundwater for their well.

The knowledge that he was living on the ruins of war stuck like a stubborn burr in the back of his mind.

Anakin became a favorite in the nearby town, in equal parts due to his skilled mechanic hands and the infant he always toted around. War had left very few younglings alive in the village. The locals were elated to see new life, easily overlooking Anakin’s standoffishness.

A voice drew him from his thoughts. “We’re close. Should I dock near the guest house?”

“Next to my ship is fine, Cody. I’m sure Anakin will want to do an inspection.”

Anakin was waiting for them on the path between the landing green and the house, a baby swaddled in his arms.

He had, at first, had concerns about leaving Anakin alone with their son. He’d quickly learned that Anakin’s paternal instincts were not underdeveloped by his long isolation; in fact, Obi-Wan had an inkling that they were stronger because of it. 

Anakin thrived in the nonverbal communication that was necessary with an infant. He was always scenting their son, always holding him and providing that vital touch comfort. Obi-Wan could feel the way Anakin connected with their son through the Force as well, their bond just as strong as his own was with his child. 

A high-pitched coo greeted him as he approached. Anakin met him halfway and immediately buried his face in his neck, soft lips pressing into the bite marks that scarred the skin over his scent gland. His mate’s smoky scent, sweetened with cinnamon and cloves, soothed the gnawing ache in his chest.

Anakin started up a contented rumble that Obi-Wan matched with his own. He found his own mating bite on Anakin’s skin and pressed his lips to it while bringing up a hand to rub over the silky, baby-fine hair of his son.

A hand found the soft swell of his middle.

He almost couldn’t believe it when he’d realized he had conceived again, so soon after a difficult birth and its horrific aftermath. And while still nursing his first child. 

But maybe he shouldn’t have been so surprised, considering the Force-blessed virility of his children’s alpha father. 

A soft rasp tickled his ear. “You came back.”

“Of course I did,” he said. “I promised I would.”

Anakin pulled back with his lovely face split in a smile. Obi-Wan could sense that Anakin had gotten the reassurance he needed, satisfied that his mate and future children were safe. 

Obi-Wan gathered his son into his arms. “I wanted our arrival to be a surprise. How did you know?”

“Hard to miss you when Cody’s ship sounds like a dying bantha as soon as it enters the stratosphere.”

Cody frowned in that way he did when he was trying to hold back a smile. “I was planning to get it repaired at the Temple as soon as I return.”

“I can do it for you if I can find the parts.” Anakin gave an easy shrug. “It sounds like it’s just an exhaust leak.”

Watching two of his favorite people in the galaxy discuss something as mundane as ship repairs soothed something deep within Obi-Wan’s soul. They’d been slowly working up to this for months and now he was seeing the fruits of their labor in the relaxed slant of Anakin’s shoulders and the upward quirk of his lips.

Anakin had warmed up to Cody much faster than anyone else. Obi-Wan had been curious enough about it to broach the topic to his mate one night.

“He loves you too much to be a threat,” was all Anakin had said on the matter, and Obi-Wan hadn’t asked again. 

A tiny hand swatted his cheek and drew his attention back to the child in his arms. He smiled down at his son’s pink-cheeked face and bounced him gently until he got a mostly-toothless smile back. “Hello, little one. I’ve missed you dearly.” 

When his son was born he didn’t have a name prepared. _Qui-Gon_ had flitted through his mind more than once, but after a few days of testing it out he had discovered that the wound of his mentor’s death was still too fresh in his mind. 

It would, perhaps, always be.

It wasn’t until weeks after the birth that his son received a name. After the abrupt and bloody conclusion to the war, when he was finally free to return to the sand dunes on the outskirts of Mos Espa.

“You want me to…?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan breathed, feeling light-headed in his relief.

Anakin ran the featherlight touch of a fingertip down their son’s tiny nose. “Kit. I would… I would like to name him Kit.”

Obi-Wan had accepted the name without a moment’s hesitation.

At just over ten months old, their son was rather quiet so far, just like his alpha father. But, like his alpha father, he liked to scent. 

Kit snuffled along his neck now, nose bunching down the high cut of his tunic to get to his skin, seeking out the scent that had undoubtedly started to fade from their home in his absence. Obi-Wan inhaled his son’s sweet, neutral baby scent, peace blooming in his chest.

“Honey.”

Obi-Wan broke from his reverie and realized Anakin had stepped in close, a hand gently touching his shoulder. He allowed Anakin to gather Kit into his arms and draw him into his chest. Anakin left for the house wordlessly, taking Kit in for a change. Obi-Wan knew his intentions by way of a faint projection into his mind.

They’d been working on that, too. Sometimes, when Anakin couldn’t find the words to convey his thoughts and emotions, he could simply share them directly. Obi-Wan marveled at his mate’s strength in the Force, how quickly he picked up on his teachings.

“Even I can feel his relief in the Force,” Cody said.

His lips twitched with fondness. “Yes. Any longer than a day or two and he starts to worry I won’t return.”

“He knows we’re protecting you.”

“Yes, he knows. He’s handling it very well, all things considered.” He assessed the angle of the sun. “I suppose we should head into town soon if we want to eat dinner tonight. Would you like to join us?”

Cody shook his head. “I have a debrief to give. Happy to help cook, though.”

Obi-Wan patted his cheek as he passed him on his way to the house. “You’re our guest, Cody. Although your company in the kitchen is always welcome.”

* * *

Anakin walked close beside him, Kit dozing in his arms, while Obi-Wan shopped the market.

One of the merchants, an old widow with the best squash plants on Sorgan, lit up at the sight of them. “Oh, it’s my lucky day! How are you doing, baby?”

She knew better than to reach for Kit when Anakin was there so she simply waved at the sleeping child.

“I’ve been informed he was unusually fussy all week while I was gone,” Obi-Wan said as he perused the day’s offerings.

“Can hardly blame him. My, you look bigger! It’s only been, what, a little more than a week?”

Obi-Wan flushed under the attention and brought a hand to his belly. “Yes, well, with twins I had to expect it would be different than with just one.”

“You carry very nicely, dear. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

Obi-Wan picked out a selection of colorful squash and gave her a stack of credits in return. She waved them farewell with a kind smile and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but smile back.

It was a peculiar thing, after many years of visiting planets only when their populations were in dire peril, to have such pleasant, easy interactions with the locals here.

“I think someone at the dock might have the parts I need,” Anakin said.

“Let’s go then.” Obi-Wan patted the bag full of their groceries. “I’ve got everything we need for tonight.”

The town had something of a rudimentary hangar for visiting ships, a place to buy fuel and get repairs done. Anakin had grown familiar with the mechanics and scrappers who bustled around the dock, but he preferred to do his build and repair work at home.

Obi-Wan saw no need to push him into more socialization when their current setup was working just fine.

As soon as they entered the dock he was on alert. Three ships he’d never seen here before—unmistakably GAR, exactly like the starfighters he spent so many years reluctantly piloting. A group of men sat near the ships playing a boisterous game of sabacc.

Anakin tensed beside him. Before Obi-Wan could even blink Anakin had handed Kit to him and strode up to the table.

The alpha jutted his chin in the direction of the ships. “Does one of those have a spare exhaust tip?”

Chuckles arose from the group. One man spoke. “Parts aren’t for sale. Unless you wanna hand over a fat chunk of credits and that omega for the night, then maybe I could be convinced.”

Obi-Wan leapt into action as soon as the words were out, rushing forward to squeeze Anakin’s shoulder tightly and project forth as much calm as he could. 

Anakin’s anger flared hot and bright, blazing strong enough to reach his own mind. 

“We have more than enough credits,” Obi-Wan said to the men whom he suspected were smugglers, “But, if I may ask, how did you acquire these ships? They belong to the Republic fleet. Only someone associated with the Jedi Order should have these in their possession.”

“Maybe we are Jedi,” one said.

“You’re not.” 

“Really?” The man who’d first spoken stood up. Anakin had an arm around his waist, trying to pull him back, but Obi-Wan wasn’t even remotely intimidated by a lowly ship smuggler.

“Should’ve known a Jedi would be suspicious.”

His stomach lurched. It hit him all at once, the realization that he’d let his guard down, that these could be bounty hunters, that they could be here to capture him, to kill him, to—

He grabbed the man’s shirt and yanked him forward. “Who sent you?” 

As soon as the man had pulled a vibroblade on him the weapon was ripped from his hand and sent flying through the air until it stabbed into the helm of a ship. 

Close-range chaos broke out. The smuggler hit the floor with a hard thud as Anakin threw him to the ground. The other men shot up to get to his aid but soon collapsed back into their chairs, clawing at their throats, choking around invisible hands. 

Obi-Wan felt the eyes of every worker at the dock staring at the scene. Kit cried in response to the sudden and loud disturbance, now awake and squirming in his arms.

The smuggler on the floor was red-faced and writhing under Anakin, who had a hand around his throat.

Obi-Wan extended a probe into the smuggler’s mind, poking around into recent memories. 

Nothing about him, the Order, or business dealings with the Separatists.

Just ordinary thieves.

Obi-Wan held Kit close to his chest in the hopes that his omega scent would comfort him while he gradually worked to lessen the deadly Force constricting around four throats. He eased down into a crouch next to his mate and cupped a hand over the back of his neck.

“Anakin, my love, they aren’t here to hurt us. They’re not worth it. Please let them go.”

Anakin growled.

“I promise you. They won’t hurt us.”

Slowly, very slowly, Anakin released his hold on the man and rose from the floor. His nose found Obi-Wan’s neck before he started to herd him away.

Obi-Wan stopped him with a gentle hand. They still had unfinished business.

He compelled the gasping smugglers in a low drone. “I will not bring harm to anyone. I will return these stolen Republic ships to their fleet and forget I ever landed on Sorgan.”

The smugglers repeated the words back to him in a monotone and began to pack up their game.

As an afterthought, Obi-Wan added, “And I will give you that spare exhaust tip.”

* * *

Once they were home, Obi-Wan put Kit down for a nap in his crib. It took a few notes of a murmured lullaby to coax him into settling down after such an eventful outing, but eventually Kit drifted off into a quiet slumber. He watched his son’s peaceful face for a few minutes longer before leaving to find Anakin where he knew he’d be. 

“Would you care to join me in the garden?”

Anakin nodded and quickly finished whatever he was working on, informing Cody his ship was up and running before following Obi-Wan out. 

The garden was, perhaps, his favorite place. The creek that ran past their home turned into a babbling waterfall as it traveled over the knoll, opening up into a freshwater spring before it narrowed again. This close to the spring the soil was dark and fertile, giving life to a variety of lush greenery, mostly wildflowers, tall grasses, and ferns. 

He and Anakin had started to make a joint effort to care for their garden this spring, with mild success. They’d replanted a few of the flower bushes along the pathway to their home with bated breath. Obi-Wan had felt an unreasonable amount of relief when he saw the first two budding flowers of the season.

He often came here to meditate, and today was no different. 

A light breeze ruffled his hair and clothes, the setting sun illuminating the garden with its orange and pink glow. Anakin sat across from him in the grass, the heat of fear and anger still radiating off him, subdued but unmistakably present. 

“Just breathe with me, Anakin,” Obi-Wan murmured. “Find my breath, my heartbeat, and try to match it as best you can.”

Anakin had improved since their first futile attempts at meditation, but he still struggled to make peace with the pulsating Force within and around him. 

He also struggled to sit still.

Obi-Wan had been descending into his own trance when he was brought back to the surface by the weight of something warm and solid at his back. Legs encircled him, arms coming up to hold his middle, a chin resting on his shoulder and a nose nuzzling behind his ear.

He hummed, amused and not at all surprised by his mate’s antics. “Can you meditate better like this?”

Anakin nodded with his nose still wedged in the crook of his neck.

“Alright. Find my breath again.”

He guided Anakin through a series of conscious breathing exercises that Anakin mostly followed. Obi-Wan focused on the rise and fall of a strong chest against his back as his own breathing lulled him into a reflective state of mind.

Then he felt lips on his neck.

“Darling.”

“Hmm?” 

Anakin had somehow shifted closer. A hand had made its way into the folds of his tunic and was slowly inching the fabric down and away from his chest. 

He foiled the hand by catching it and bringing it up to his lips, kissing each of the knuckles.

“Since you’re done reflecting, you should help me up. We’ve got a stew to make.”

Neither Anakin nor Cody were particularly good cooks, for obvious reasons, and Obi-Wan was only so competent himself. But, in the months since the end of the war, they’d slowly learned ways to utilize the fresh produce and meat that their little town market had to offer. 

Cody was a pleasant addition to their dinner routine. He’d only joined them for this a few times before, but it was always nice to have an extra set of hands with so many vegetables to chop, another warm and familiar scent mingling with the other comforting scents of their home. 

“I think it needs salt.”

Anakin handed Cody the shaker.

Obi-Wan smiled at them from his place by the sink.

While Cody was relaying information about his debrief over dinner, Obi-Wan noticed a plum fall from the fruit bowl from the corner of his eye. It rolled across the table until it settled next to his bowl.

“You’re doing very well with that, dear.”

His mate preened.

They’d already begun discussing a better plan for when Obi-Wan would be out of commission for peacekeeping work in the not-so-distant future. Looking back, he couldn’t quite believe he’d been on the ground of a siege up until the last week of his pregnancy, but he couldn’t regret it. At the time, he’d been convinced he was saving another planet from tyrannical conquest. Convinced he had no other option.

“What we do is still dangerous,” Cody was saying. “We can’t have a repeat of last time.”

Obi-Wan laughed. “Right, yes, that was a close call. Can you imagine if my water had broken in the middle of active combat?”

Anakin growled. Across the table Cody tensed as well. 

He rolled his eyes. Force, they were ridiculous. “Will you please calm down. The both of you.”

At their continued unease he gentled his voice. “That won’t happen. The war is _over._ Things are different now.”

Once they’d just about finished dinner, Anakin grabbed Obi-Wan’s bowl and refilled it with nearly half of what he’d already eaten, setting it back down in front of him without a word. 

“Hardly necessary.”

Anakin only nudged it closer.

Obi-Wan huffed, sharing a fondly exasperated look with Cody. “Oh, alright.”

* * *

After evening tea, Cody departed to the guest house and they were free to retire to their own bedroom. Anakin went to turn on the water for the shower while Obi-Wan stripped himself of his stale travel clothes.

Anakin was forever fascinated by how much water they had, having spent all of his life limited to whatever a vaporator could collect for him that day. Obi-Wan never tired of how long Anakin would insist they stay under the water, whining pitifully if Obi-Wan suggested they get out too early.

Anakin took his time washing him, relearning his body after a week apart, mapping the changes. Gently cleansing away the sweat and dirt from his travels, the traces of dried milk that had leaked and mostly been absorbed into the pads he wore under his tunic. 

Obi-Wan returned the same attentions to his mate, relishing in every water-blessed touch and kiss.

Obi-Wan didn’t bother to redress after drying off, only throwing a robe over his shoulders to keep out the chill of the night air that came in through the cracked window.

Anakin woke Kit and carried him into their bedroom, placing him into Obi-Wan’s arms so Obi-Wan could arrange him properly on his chest.

He was already achy and beading, as if his body knew to prepare itself.

Without even opening his eyes, Kit latched on to a nipple and began to nurse. Obi-Wan relaxed into it easily, the familiar pressure on his chest, the satisfied little sounds his son made as he suckled. He leaned back into the pillows and angled his neck so Anakin could arrange a cloth on his shoulder before joining them on the bed.

“He really doesn’t like the bottle,” Anakin said quietly, eyes on their son, who had started groggily kneading at his breast with tiny fists. 

Anakin liked to watch while he nursed. He never seemed to grow out of his fascination with it.

“I know.” Obi-Wan idly played with the tiny curls at the nape of Kit’s neck, other hand supporting his rear to keep him balanced where he rested on his belly. “I had hoped to be home sooner, but Espos was in a worse state than we’d originally thought. It’s a miracle we accomplished what we did in the time we had.”

Anakin didn’t say anything right away. His mate had spent most of his life on a solitary Outer Rim planet. It was more than understandable that he struggled to understand the nature and importance of his work. 

But Anakin had long come to understand how important the work was to him, always attentive when he discussed their relief efforts. 

Obi-Wan had just switched Kit over to the other breast when Anakin said, “I’d like to help you with it. Some day.”

He stilled. Little grunts were the only sounds in the room while he took his time to absorb the softly-spoken confession. 

Anakin leaned down to press a cheek to his shoulder and stroke a hand down Kit’s back while their son continued nursing, oblivious to the world.

“I think you’d be very good at assisting the Republic in its reparations, Anakin. Whenever you’re ready.”

Once Kit unlatched, full and content, Obi-Wan lifted him to his shoulder and patted his back until he let out a few squeaky burps. Anakin carefully took Kit from his arms and laid him down on his own chest, something that Kit nestled into with any hesitation, graciously allowing Anakin to play with his tiny fist, to breathe into his hair.

They’d only moved Kit into the nursery next door recently and Obi-Wan knew his mate was still struggling with not having Kit close throughout the night. He often caught Anakin napping during the day with their son on his chest and it never failed to fill his heart with golden warmth.

Eventually it was time for bed. Obi-Wan gathered up a sleeping Kit from his comfortable pillow and settled him into his crib.

As soon as he entered the doorway to their bedroom he had a mouth sucking on his scent gland.

He gasped out a laugh. “Couldn’t wait?”

Anakin nibbled at his ear and down the bristles of his jaw, hands on his hips and sliding further back. He whined against his skin. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, my love.” 

It never got easier to leave on these extended missions. Saying farewell was always a heavy burden for both of them to bear.

He brought a hand up to play with Anakin’s hair. Shiny and soft, as long and unruly as ever.

“You’re doing so well around Cody,” he praised. “I’m very proud of you.”

His mate pulled away from his neck and smiled, soft and hesitant.

“Maybe I’ll have to invite Mace over soon.”

Anakin’s eyes narrowed at the prospect. 

“Alpha?”

“Suppressed, as they all are, but yes.” 

They might have to wait a little longer before introducing Mace. Slowly but surely, Anakin was getting accustomed to being around people again, and Obi-Wan had no need or desire to rush him.

One day, he hoped that Anakin would get to meet his former Padawan. They would get along well, he thought, now that Anakin seemed to be unfurling like one of the wildflowers in their garden, with more of his true personality coming to light with each passing day, becoming more bold and bright and playful. 

As he was always meant to be.

Yes, they would get along well. He had not heard from Ahsoka since the day she left the Order, but he felt with certainty in his heart that one day she would reach out to him. One day she would find him again.

He ran his hands appreciatively over his mate’s bare chest. Anakin had, thankfully, filled out a bit since Tatooine, becoming stronger and broader with some much-needed softness added to the sharp lines of his form. 

Obi-Wan was softer as well, from the pregnancies and also, he realized, from Anakin’s insistence on making sure he actually ate on a regular basis for the first time in years.

Yes, he was certainly softer than he had been during wartime, but he supposed that was a good thing. 

Hands reached between their bodies to caress the curve of his belly. 

“I started to feel them move during the week,” Obi-Wan finally revealed.

According to the Temple healers, he’d passed the halfway point of his pregnancy while away on the mission. It was still too early for Anakin to feel them physically, but that hadn’t stopped him from trying, from pressing his ear close and waiting patiently for the faintest of sounds.

Anakin’s hands were always on him when they were together, always making their way to his belly before long. Even before the twins’ tiny Force signatures had become apparent, Anakin liked to hold him around the middle, to keep a hand on the softest part of his belly whenever he was in reach.

He allowed Anakin to rub his hands over him for a while longer before he stilled him by placing his hands over his. “You’re feeling affectionate.”

Anakin looked up at him, expression soft and open and adoring. “I missed you," he stressed. "And them.”

Obi-Wan slid a hand down Anakin’s body before ending with a light pinch to the swell of his ass. “Think you could put another in me?”

Any reference to breeding always made Anakin blush, even with his newly flourishing confidence, but Obi-Wan liked to think he knew his mate well and knew how much the prospect of rounding him out with more pups interested him.

“I would like more pups. After the twins.”

Anakin’s earnestly sincere response made his heart clench. Force, he loved this silly alpha. Worries about his body not being able to bear more children, children that Anakin— that _they,_ might want, resurfaced in his mind, but he cast them aside.

So far, the Force had been more than generous.

Anakin’s eyes flashed bright and devious. “Maybe three next time.”

_“Three?”_

The teasing rumble of Anakin’s affirmation shot a thrill to his core, charging his arousal enough that he could feel a fresh wave of slick trickling down the inside of his thighs. 

Anakin kissed him softly before trailing more kisses down his body, holding Obi-Wan’s robe open as he lowered himself to his knees before him. Hands on Obi-Wan’s thighs kept them parted enough for Anakin to lick between them, lapping up the trails of slick, his hot tongue only amplifying Obi-Wan’s arousal.

“Darling…”

Anakin hummed against his skin. “You're always so sweet. Ripe. _Mine.”_

Anakin nuzzled the thatch of hair between his hip bones before taking his cock into his mouth.

Obi-Wan’s breath caught. He tangled both of his hands in Anakin’s curls while Anakin rumbled around his cock, producing lovely vibrations that had him swelling with need.

The heady scent of alpha arousal flooded his senses while Anakin pleasured his cock thoroughly with his mouth. Once instructed, Anakin had learned quickly what he liked, how to take him apart slowly, piece by piece until his legs were trembling and no longer able to support him.

“Your mouth is a gift,” Obi-Wan murmured. Another gasp parted his lips as Anakin swirled a deft tongue around the head, teasing him.

Anakin seemed determined to bring him to his release, but Obi-Wan had another idea.

“Come here.” Obi-Wan tugged his mate up, giving him a quick peck, tasting himself on his lips. “Lay down for me, please.” 

He followed Anakin onto the bed and straddled his hips, only a little hindered in his movements by the children in his belly. 

He was slick enough already that he could guide Anakin’s hand to his entrance, for Anakin to slide his fingers easily over the rim. He gasped as soon as Anakin pressed a finger in and began opening him up, preparing him for his cock. 

_Force,_ he’d missed this. 

Anakin carefully added fingers, wholly concentrated on the task of stretching his walls open. Obi-Wan made it easier by rolling his hips down onto his fingers.

“I’m ready, dear.”

Anakin’s warm palms on his hips kept him steady, helping to guide his movements as he took his mate’s cock into his body. Under him, Anakin’s breath caught on a moan as Obi-Wan fully seated himself down.

“You feel so good,” Obi-Wan breathed, hands braced on Anakin’s chest as he waited for his muscles to fully adjust. “Always so good for me, darling.”

The way Anakin looked up at him like he hung the stars never failed to seize his heart with twin pangs of love and guilt. 

Anakin’s gaze flitted over every part of him as he rose up on his cock and sunk back down again, gradually building up a rhythm. Obi-Wan didn’t miss how his gaze kept returning to his middle. Like clockwork, Anakin brought a hand to his belly, grazing fingertips over his navel before returning the hand to his hip.

Obi-Wan admired the bronze of Anakin’s skin contrasted against the pale sheets, the breadth of his shoulders, the definition of his chest and abdomen, the strong arms that supported him as he rode his cock. His lovely face, still so young, perhaps even younger in appearance now that the shadows behind his eyes had all but disappeared.

Obi-Wan’s eyes were fluttering closed in pleasure when he felt a warm weight on his breast, his only warning before a light twinge.

“Anakin— _oh!”_

Anakin tweaked his sensitive nipple again and it was enough to make him leak, just a thin dribble. 

He paused, seated to the root and a tad breathless.

Anakin brought the drops of milk to his lips, lapping it up with happy little sounds.

“Sometimes I’m not sure who enjoys the milk more, you or Kit.”

Anakin smiled up at him sweetly.

Obi-Wan resumed his steady, unhurried rhythm, indulging his mate by allowing him to continue his careful little pinches, intent on wringing out just enough milk for another taste. 

“Kit tried to stand again today.”

“On his own?”

Anakin shook his head. “Holding on. We practiced for a while.”

Obi-Wan slowed his pace, taking the time to really catalogue the face of the father of his children, the man he’d found in the desert—who had found _him_ in the desert, who had left his last thread of safety behind to follow him across the galaxy. To make a home with him. To help raise their son—and soon, their children.

“I don’t tell you often enough how good of a father you are. So patient and gentle.”

Anakin flushed beautifully, the apples of his cheeks going rosy. “I’m not.” 

Anakin always tried to fight him on this, always haunted by the same memories of slaughter.

He would happily keep repeating himself until his mate understood.

“You are not your past, Anakin. You were only a child when that happened.”

Anakin shook his head, eyes wide and guilty. “But today I— I—”

Obi-Wan hushed him with a finger to his lips. “Today you tried to keep your family safe. You listened to me when I told you to stand down. I couldn’t be more proud of you. My sweet alpha.”

Anakin whined low in his throat. “I still get angry. And it’s... it’s still hard to…”

“Yes, and we’re still working on managing those emotions. But,” Obi-Wan leaned down with an affectionate smile directed at the man he loved so dearly, “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to protect those you care about.” 

“I love you,” Anakin said easily. His eyes shone bright and clear.

“I know, my dearest. And I love you.”

Anakin started to roll his hips up into him, just slow, gentle movements to match his own rise and fall. His cock pushed in just that much deeper and Obi-Wan’s body opened and stretched even more around him.

Anakin knotted him only rarely; even when his knot started to swell, his mate worried about their son crying for them while they were still tied together. For the most part he managed to curb his instinct to breed, although one memorable time had, of course, led to the children currently growing in his womb. 

Looking back, Obi-Wan realized he had been in heat then, but once again it’d been easy to ignore the signs in favor of a few days of euphoric sex in a honeyed haze.

Obi-Wan could feel the slightest hint of Anakin’s knot flaring. The additional pressure as he impaled himself down on Anakin’s cock stretched his rim perfectly. 

“I won’t knot,” Anakin assured him softly.

Truthfully, he wouldn’t mind if he did.

He was close. Obi-Wan palmed his cock, ready to stroke himself to completion. Anakin’s hand caught his, gently pushing it aside to wrap his long, lovely fingers around his cock. Obi-Wan leaned down, pressing his hands into Anakin’s shoulders while his alpha stroked his cock, gazing up at him with wide, adoring eyes. 

Obi-Wan continued a shallow rock of his hips as he spilled into his mate’s hand, keening softly against the throbs of pleasure that rolled through his body. 

As soon as he’d finished, Anakin brought his hand to his lips and lapped up his come with the same curiosity and eagerness he’d possessed the very first time. 

_Silly alpha._

Anakin must have sensed the tired cramp he was feeling in his legs. He grabbed his hips and began fucking up into him. 

“Oh, _oh—”_

The short, hard thrusts felt incredible inside him with his nerves already lit up like live wires from his orgasm. Before long Anakin came with a choked-off sigh and Obi-Wan clenched hard around his cock, keeping him buried tightly within him. 

With a breathless laugh he eased off Anakin’s cock and rolled onto his side, feeling sated and pleasantly achy.

It was perhaps only a few seconds before Anakin was nudging at his hip.

He obliged with a fond huff, presenting himself on his knees. Anakin let out a pleased rumble while he lapped up the combination of his own seed and Obi-Wan’s slick, tongue dipping into his well-fucked hole just enough to have Obi-Wan humming his appreciation into the pillow.

“Silly alpha.”

He received a gentle squeeze to his ass before Anakin’s mouth disappeared from his hole and his weight disappeared from the bed. 

He was already curled up on his side and dozing by the time Anakin returned. He allowed his mate to wipe his skin clean of the mess they’d made, including the traces of milk that had dribbled down and dried on his chest. 

Anakin gave him the blanket that had been wadded up on one side of the bed. 

He adjusted the bundle in his arms and inhaled deeply. “My scent’s quite faded. I’m assuming you want me to remedy that?”

“You were gone for too long.” The soft, petulant grumble made him laugh.

Anakin curled around his back, skin overheated and damp against his own, happy alpha scent suffusing the air. 

Obi-Wan shifted the angle of his body, bringing a knee up higher on the bed. “I’d like to keep you inside me a little longer.”

Anakin was still stiff enough to push back into him, crowding in close to his body and wrapping his arm around his middle. 

In the contented silence, as he reveled in the smell and softness of the bed he’d missed so much, a thought occurred to him, one he’d somehow never considered before.

“Anakin. How did you know I was there?”

“Hmm?”

“On Tatooine. You couldn’t have possibly seen or heard me from inside your home during that storm.”

Anakin’s voice was a quiet rumble near his ear. “I could feel you. Your distress. It was… an ache. Here.” He spread his fingers out over Obi-Wan’s chest, pressing in over his heart.

Under Anakin's palm, his heart leapt.

He sent his gratitude to the Force for its blessings and interlaced his fingers with Anakin’s over his chest.

“I knew then.”

It was Obi-Wan’s turn to be confused. “What did you know?”

“That you were mine. That I…” Warm lips pressed softly to his mating bite. “That I wanted you to be.”

Here, in this quiet, miraculous peace they’d found, Obi-Wan listened to his love’s steady heartbeat and even breaths as he fell into his own restful sleep.


End file.
